


War Cry

by Iron_Angel



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Gen, Post-Blind Betrayal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-28 00:58:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10060499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iron_Angel/pseuds/Iron_Angel
Summary: "So, what are you, little saboteur?"She cocked her head slightly, reflecting him in the mask's lens. "Freedom."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: *insert standard "don't own, no profits made" jargon here*
> 
> All mistakes/typos are mine. I'll correct them as I find them.
> 
> Title from the song "Comanche" by In This Moment.

She was slammed down onto her knees so hard that she pitched forward, head banging against the metal grate floor, the lens of her mask cracking. She recovered quickly, though, sitting as upright as she could with her wrists cuffed behind her and the bulky arm guards digging into her back.

She glared up at the two Knights that flanked her, then turned her attention to the Elder. He stood at parade rest, but his pale eyes were hard as he glared at her.

  
_"I don't like this," Deacon said softly. For once, the whine in his voice he usually had while complaining was absent. "You should be in this, not me."_

_Nora grabbed the torso handles of the T-60 and pulled Deacon down to eye level. "I thought you liked being in disguise." She removed his glasses, tucking them into her pocket, then carefully lowered the helmet over his head. With a jerk and a hiss, it sealed into place. "How does it feel, 'Paladin'?"_

_He turned his head from side to side experimentally. "Like you're too exposed," he sighed._

  
"I have to admire your resourcefulness and courage," Maxson began, his voice soft and smooth in complete contrast to the fire of his gaze, "though perhaps not your logic. One person against the entirety of the Brotherhood, and aboard our own ship? Just what did you hope to accomplish?"

His captive said nothing. Her face covered by the assault mask, there were no features to be read to give her thoughts away.

  
_Nora tightened the belt around her waist, making sure that each device was secure. She systematically flipped each ones' switches on and off again, satisfied when each light blinked then cut out._

_"It really doesn't seem like a good idea to arm those things when they're wrapped around you like that." The power armor's speaker distorted Deacon's voice to the point of being unrecognizable._

_Nora smiled at him, wrapping a long strip of cloth around and over her middle like she'd seen some of the scavver women wear. Wasteland deprivation, for once, had it's perks. The devices were virtually unnoticeable. "Careful, Dee. You almost sounded like you cared for a moment there."_

_"Absolutely not."_

_It was probably the worst lie she'd ever heard from him._

  
The Elder gave a nod and the Paladin behind her stepped forward, dumping an armful of dismantled explosive devices on to the floor in front of her.

"Laughably low-tech and crude, but I do not doubt they would have been effective." Maxson lightly toed the pile with his boot. "Definitely not something I would expect from the Institute, and the Railroad has been scattered. So, what are you, little saboteur?"

She cocked her head slightly, reflecting him in the mask's lens. "Freedom."

Maxson barked a laugh. " _Freedom_?" he demanded, incredulous. "The Brotherhood seeks to destroy that which holds the Commonwealth in the grip of terror, and you attempt to cripple us in the name of _freedom_?" He turns and spreads his arms wide to emphasize the landscape beyond the command deck windows. "We are here to _save_ you!"

She gave a humorless snort. "I know you probably get off on this whole saving the world thing, but have you ever considered maybe the world doesn't actually need you?" The obscured challenging glare was more than clear in her voice. "The Commonwealth sure as hell doesn't need a _savior_ like you or your imperialistic regime."

Though his face remained a controlled scowl, rage burned in the Elder's eyes like the gas flame of a cutting torch promising to burn the heart out of her. She had little doubt that without his Knights and the Paladin present, he would have already done so.

  
_Nora and Deacon stood watching the orange smoke of the Brotherhood flare as it spiraled up into the sky. The Vertibird was not yet in visual range, but they could hear the beat of the propellers closing in._

_"I really don't like this plan," Deacon whispered._

_Nora wasn't sure if he meant it for her to hear or not. "So you've said," she replied. "Several times. If you have a better one, you've got less than thirty seconds to lay it on me."_

_She jumped slightly and looked down at it when his armored hand lightly gripped hers. "Retreat and think up a new one?" he asked, hopefully._

_The Vertibird came into view over the treeline._

_She quickly pulled her hand free._

_"Too late."_

  
Maxson strode forward and she had to lean back to keep her eyes on him as he towered over her. She didn't bother to stifle the tremor in her shoulders as the strain from the cuffs pulled at them. He noticed and, for a blink, a victorious smirk tugged at his lips.

He bent, picking up a broken device and holding it in front of her face, his glare pure menace. "You have failed, and I am done with this game." He dropped the component and grabbed the front of the mask, his huge hand encompassing her whole face for moment to prove to her just how easily he could twist and snap her neck if he chose. Then he pulled it off. "You?!"

Nora wanted to grin at the utterly shocked expression on the Elder's face --even the Knights on either side of her jerked back in surprise-- but she knew Maxson was far from stupid. Just as she knew he would, he quickly put the pieces together and turned to the Paladin.

"Insert something Shakespearean involving death and your inevitable doom here," Deacon said, lifting his fist to reveal a bright red button a split second before he pressed it.

  
_Nora swallowed the urge to hiss at Deacon as she could feel his eyes on her as she placed the last decoy in more-or-less plain sight. If anyone noticed him watching her, the scheme would be up. As it was, she felt lucky that it was only her being so in tune with him and not that his anxiety was bleeding over into the obvious, or they would have already been caught._

_She flipped the switch._

_One last act._

_She watched as the light on the device began blinking._

_"Hey, you there! What the hell do you think you're doing?!"_

_Perfect_.

  
Maxson roared in fury as the first explosions vibrated along the Prydwen's hull. "What have you _done_?!" He grabbed Nora by the shirt front, pulling her up and screaming in her face. "Traitor!"

Without warning, Nora planted her feet and slammed her head forward, smashing into the Elder's face. He dropped her as he reflexively grabbed his now-gushing nose, staggering from both her strike and the listing of the airship as another explosion disabled the stabilizers.

"That's for Glory, you bastard!"

He was quick to regain his feet, pulling a gun and taking aim at her head. "This will not stop the Brotherhood! The loss of the Prydwen will not end us!"

Nora flashed a savage smile, his blood smeared on her face and staining her teeth. "Not the Brotherhood. Just _you_."

Maxson fired.

Deacon, forgotten, deflected the bullet with his arm plate as he grabbed and jerked Nora into his arms, charging toward the windows.

"Give my regards to Danse," she shouted as the Railroad agent burst through the glass.

She would never forget the man's face as flames consumed the command deck.

...

She closed her eyes as she relaxed in Deacon's hold.

...

The rushing wind in her ears went silent.

...

Danse. The synthetic soldier with fierce loyalty and soft brown eyes.

...

Glory. The war goddess with a rare smile and hair like starlight.

...

And Deacon...

...

"Oh shit," Deacon gasped an instant before colliding with the ground, sending a massive shockwave outward, pulverizing the already cracked pavement and blowing out the last intact window of the nearby hanger.

Nora groaned as pain shot through her back, the force knocking the air from her lungs and... yes, that's a few ribs cracked at least.

"Oh shit!" Deacon said again, setting her down. She didn't have the strength to stand, slumping against the hanger's outer wall. "Stimpak! Where are the stimpaks?!"

He wasn't used to the power armor's bulk and could only fumble at her belt pouches.

She pulled away from him, rolling onto her side with a hiss and holding her bound hands out to him as best she could. "Get me out of this," she panted.

He accidentally jerked too hard, causing her to hiss again as he snapped the cuffs. "Sorry, I'm so sorry," he whispered, stopping himself from massaging her wrists when he realized he'd do more damage in the suit. He growled in frustration and stood to release the armor's hatch.

"Don't!" she said through clenched teeth. "No time!" She held her arms up to him to pick her up again. "Get us out of here!"

Above them, the fires had reached the Prydwen's ballonets, the gases igniting in an inferno that painted everything from sky to sea in hellish orange.

Deacon did his best to scoop her up as gently as possible in a bridal carry, taking off at run. Over his shoulder, Nora watched the airship fall from the sky.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Kudos and comments are always appreciated.
> 
> Update 2017/5/19: At the time of writing this, I had not made a Railroad character nor had I done the "Rockets' Red Glare" quest. Boy, color me friggin' surprised! (O_O) So, uh, yeah, I'm gonna sit over here and see if I can predict the lotto numbers for next week.


End file.
